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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28426905">of laundry loads and jewels (of every piece of stuffing that came out of you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardouring/pseuds/ardouring'>ardouring</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Household Appliance Metaphors, M/M, Metaphors, Mutual Pining, Unreliable Narrator, attempt at prose, borderline unhealthy relationships, comparisons to a fruit, jewelry metaphors, loosely based on actual events, mutual obsession, no beta we die like men, overuse of excuses from both parties, washing machine angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:26:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28426905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardouring/pseuds/ardouring</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Donghyuck— really isn’t part of his life. Donghyuck is something he can shove in the basket for next time and pile more clothes on top of it, the dirty laundry he can make an excuse for. They have their own friends, their own commitments, and Donghyuck isn’t something he needs to wake up at 2am for like when the machine breaks down. Because Donghyuck, despite his pretty face and charming smiles, is nothing more than a fling, and that Sungchan will always be his go to when he needs a break from whatever, and like a washing machine cycle it’ll be a rinse and repeat.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jung Sungchan/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>of laundry loads and jewels (of every piece of stuffing that came out of you)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey...heyy! this was originally meant to be a <a href="https://twitter.com/euthtoria/status/1339135323171778560?s=20">drabble</a><br/>, but mix in feelings, a passive aggressive relationship with someone that ended up in both parties ignoring each other, the experience of a decade in being in a girls' private school full of rich kids, caffeine and regret.. and you've got this sexc baby with too many feelings!</p><p>at some point it ended up being a study on domesticity vs freedom, of the fear of intimacy and the opposite of that spectrum, that turned out [waves hands] into washing machine metaphors and the contrast of jewellery! </p><p>listening to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/ooo0eve0ooo">e ve</a> (go check his music out) and receiving vaguely? distressing news, debating on human morality, panicking about the future and you get this! but, i am happy to finally get this off my chest.</p><p>so cheers! may i write a happier 2chan one day!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their first meeting starts a little like this:</p><p>Donghyuck sells Sungchan his washing machine. </p><p>Sungchan meets him at the centre of the square, pushing that obnoxious orange trolley that Yuta had lent him. Donghyuck looks up, sees his stupid trolley and compares it to the weight of the machine and he laughs, and Sungchan is no poet, but he thinks he now understands why every love song is the same. Donghyuck looks like he walked out of a punk band, leaning against his car wearing battered up converse that has been everywhere but Sungchan thinks that he’s managed to walk into his washing machine heart.</p><p>He’s heard of Donghyuck (the whole campus has), and how he is stupidly charismatic and knows the whole campus by name, and how he is rich and his family more so, and how his popularity and aura gets him things and the people he wants. (Sungchan thinks his act is terribly cliche, where the cold rich lead is to be slowly pried open like a jewelry case, where his character is shown to be lonely, and the audience will coo and fall in love with the heartbroken prince— pieces of a plot, carefully pasted together into a story that will sound the same each time.) Donghyuck sticks out like rubies in a field of green.</p><p>Sungchan knows that he will be falling into the same trap of a promised fairytale, the one where the main character is too promising and the romantic lead is too cold. This is their first time meeting, but Sungchan has a feeling that Donghyuck is smarter that he lets go from his picture perfect persona. </p><p>Donghyuck offers to help him, laughing at his trolley and his predicament. “I’ll help you push it back to your dorm, if you want.” And Sungchan knows he should say no, that the dorm is too dirty, or that he’s rushing for time, or any other fake pretense to take him out of there. But Sungchan has been reckless since he submitted his application here, and Donghyuck feels like the breath of wind that can give him rest. </p><p>There is nothing romantic about this situation, but maybe Sungchan craves company more than before. He is nineteen and too brave in his soul, sticky and uncomfortable in this hot afternoon sun. But he catches himself thinking that he wouldn’t have this any way. Donghyuck pushes the trolley together with him, and he lets himself think that they could be friends.</p><p>(Sungchan was wrong. Donghyuck is not the breath of wind, but rather the typhoon that blows your roof away.)</p><p>***</p><p>The second time they meet is at a library.</p><p>Donghyuck is surprisingly alone, typing away at his laptop. Slouched over, eye bags under his eyes, the posture of every tired student. But somehow Donghyuck still looks put together, Gucci hoodie wrapped over him, Boots kicking the air, airpods in his ears. He wonders if this is the aura of rich people, to look perfect wherever they go. </p><p>Sungchan freezes, and he wonders if he would be crossing a line by saying hi, like selling him his washing machine was enough of a boundary to create a friendship. </p><p>(What line are you crossing, Sungchan?)</p><p>To his surprise, Donghyuck sees him first. He waves and smiles at him, and Sungchan is too shocked to do anything but to smile back, stuttering a hi back to him. Donghyuck smiles a knowing smile at him. Does he know he has that effect on everyone?</p><p>Donghyuck grabs at his hand to sit down, pushing his stuff off the table.</p><p>Sungchan feels like someone has smashed one of those airplane trolleys into his ribcage, and he closes his eyes at the impact. He opens his eyes, and instead of rows of concerned passengers wincing in pain at a flight attendant with a schooled smile, it’s to meet the confused eyes of Donghyuck.</p><p>Strange. He feels more confused than how Donghyuck looks.</p><p>He sits down with too much force than necessary. He doesn’t need to be here. He just needs to borrow this book. Some rational, protective part of his brain yells at him once more, to make an excuse, to get out of this place. A project. A consultation, even.</p><p>He pulls out his textbook instead. Is this a test? Does selling your washing machine to a poor college underclassmen automatically confirm the two of you as friends? Is this how Donghyuck keeps his friends, seeing their gullibility or their wit? Does the campus’ prince really need another friend like him?</p><p>Whatever. He’ll at least get through this portion of notes. </p><p>They fall into a steady routine, quiet and steady. He lets himself laugh at the contrast of their situations. A sequined covered pencil case from Coach (he didn’t even know they sold those things) and the dusty cover of a canvas case stained with ink spills. For a while, out of some sort of sick loneliness, he lets himself imagine what it would be like, if he could be Donghyuck’s friend.</p><p>(What’s stopping you, Sungchan?)</p><p>(Sungchan realises later, with a sickening sensation from the top of his head to his toes, that he had made a terrible mistake coming here.</p><p>He’s falling for his trap, headlong and nose diving into a pit of desperation and obsession.)</p><p>He waves at Donghyuck a few days later. He gets ignored. Sungchan tells himself as a weak act of self consolation that the bastard just needs to get his eyes checked.</p><p>***</p><p>The third time they meet is at some party.</p><p>Shotaro drags him there. </p><p>“You need to calm down. Get your mind off him.” He says exasperatedly, dragging him out of their dorm. It goes without saying who he is.</p><p>The party is loud, and he swears that he can feel the thundering of the music deep into the floorboards and the walls. He swears he can feel his own heartbeat, louder than the basses in the music, and he is hit with the realisation that Donghyuck might be at this party. Sungchan scrambles, and he turns, for another escape, yet again, and he’ll gladly skin Shotaro later for not telling him—</p><p>He blanks out for a second. He’s bumped into someone. Black leather boots that fall into his vision, contrasting with his neon yellow sneakers. The boots that move up and down in some sort of teasing, knowing way. Scratched up and worn out, the wearer playfully moves his shoe to try to step on Sungchan’s.</p><p>Sungchan looks up, and Donghyuck grins, cheeky, but he can swear there’s the tint of predatory and malice in there.</p><p>It’s happened twice. They both know this cycle. Sungchan will attempt his best to escape, but Donghyuck has the vice of the damned snake that seduced Eve. Hook, line and sinker, and Sungchan will find himself getting closer and closer to the fire of an ice cold prince.</p><p>Except, except that when Donghyuck finally opens his mouth, and before Sungchan can accept his fate, Mark Lee steps in and crashes in Donghyuck.</p><p>His reaction is instantaneous, and Sungchan thinks he understands why Donghyuck likes teasing people this much. Mark is clinging onto Donghyuck, obviously drunk, because Mark would never be caught sober acting like a koala to him.</p><p>His face is flushed, and when Mark snuzzles into his neck, Donghyuck sighs and rubs his back. This action feels strangely domestic and intimate, but instead of feeling like he’s intruded in some private scene, Sungchan feels like he’s hit the jackpot.</p><p>He’s found Lee Donghyuck’s sole weakness: Mark Lee.</p><p>Donghyuck is blushing now, and he averts his eyes away from Sungchan. but the telltale sign of the red is obvious even in the dim lights. Donghyuck reminds him of a peach, from the fuzz of his hair to the red dusting his cheeks. For the flesh to come apart at its seams, dripping at the tips of his ugly boots. Donghyuck takes the shape of rotten fruit, sickly sweet but bitter and somehow everything in between.</p><p>The hunted becomes the hunter.</p><p>(Later, Sungchan will ponder on why he felt a drop of disappointment on seeing Donghyuck’s crush on Mark.)</p><p>***</p><p>Donghyuck doesn’t really recognise him at first. There is nothing about him that stands out, except his height. Slender faced, tall, innocent looking like a deer. He reminds him of everyone else on this campus— full of hope, fire crackling in his heart, panic barely concealed in the wrung out strings of his hoodie.</p><p>At least, until he pulls out an article from Cosmopolitan: “Why being bisexual boosts your business capability by 40%”, in an argument with his professors. And wins.</p><p>The whole business department has a field day with that one.</p><p>He spots him one day by the building. Sungchan is dressed in the most boring cardigan he has ever seen, and his yellow sneakers piss him off more than anything. But the building is dirt and brick and cement and Sungchan is kneeling to see the marigolds in the small patch growing there, and Donghyuck lets himself think that this boy stands out like the sun.</p><p>Sungchan is late to everything. He’s late to consultations and to shifts and to library hours, and Donghyuck doesn’t know whether to be impressed or disgusted.</p><p>But Sungchan is not late to dates, as he finds out the next day.</p><p>Donghyuck blames the dry ice machine at the party when the words slip out of his mouth faster than he can stop them. He blames the fact that he likes to rile Sungchan up more than anything, likes the thrill he gets from Sungchan’s expressions of confusion and anger.</p><p>Except— except that Sungchan looks more hurt than anything. Except that Sungchan knows that he is a fling, a rebound. Sungchan doesn’t tell him anything, but they can both tell from his expression that this is not a simple hangout. The biggest wall between them is not the gate that Sungchan is crossing, but their lack of knowing how to be raw and unrefined with each other.</p><p>Donghyuck is scared of commitment, if you want to list traits of being unbecoming. That’s why he always hesitates, even when someone asks for his favourite colour or food, eyes turning up in an attempt to be in deep thought when he is petrified (of what? he has no idea.) He thinks it’s ironic, that the simplest questions can take the most out of him.</p><p>His old habits are back. He holds on to Sungchan like he’s the shining jewel in his display case.</p><p>***</p><p>Donghyuck exists at the back of his mind. An easy sort of fling, Sungchan thinks, for him. Detached at the back of his mind, half in half out, not-really-there (most of the time), and Sungchan will live his life, go through his routine, stumble through the hallways lost, cram for his exams and not think about him.</p><p>At least not until he goes to class and then Donghyuck will be there with his friend and he’ll wink, or make fun of him, or try to buy him something, and whatever corner that exists in Sungchan’s heart for him will bleed out like water from washing clothes, grey, dusty, soapy and leaving a trail of grime in the pipes of his washing machine mind.</p><p>Because Donghyuck— really isn’t part of his life. Donghyuck is something he can shove in the basket for next time and pile more clothes on top of it, the dirty laundry he can make an excuse for. They have their own friends, their own commitments, and Donghyuck isn’t something he needs to wake up at 2am for like when the machine breaks down. Because Donghyuck, despite his pretty face and charming smiles, is nothing more than a fling, and that Sungchan will always be his go to when he needs a break from whatever, and like a washing machine cycle it’ll be a rinse and repeat.</p><p>(May heaven help the fool who has fallen in love.)</p><p>They fall into some sort of routine, as well oiled for two estranged acquaintances. Sungchan does not think they can be called lovers, and friends would be a bit too familiar. </p><p>(He hasn’t realised that he’s become another weakness of Donghyuck.)</p><p>***</p><p>Donghyuck tells him one day that he doesn’t like wearing jewellery.</p><p>“I’m scared of losing them. I’m scared of someone stealing them. When I was younger, I used to keep all my gems and hide them, so no one would be able to find them, even if it meant I wouldn’t see them ever.” Donghyuck says this with a simple, calm expression on his face, when the both of them are inside some overpriced jewellery shop. It feels easy, but Donghyuck has never been one for simple explanations (Sungchan has learnt this the hard way.) It feels like the unplugging of the drain for some sort of memory he has never visited, but this drain of memories for Donghyuck is clogged, and Sungchan will once again be the poor plumber fixing the mess that is the pipeways.</p><p>Donghyuck never says anything about himself. Sungchan is sure to remember this one in his mind. Maybe they can be called confidants, but that would require trust and confidence, and he is sure Donghyuck barely holds either for him. He will hold content with this, because now he knows a bit more edge over him, so at least their parting will hurt a lot less.</p><p>***</p><p>Sungchan feels wrung out, like he’s been spun through the washing machine. He feels like the seeds of an apple, cored out and hollow, spit out and discarded. He wants company, company that won’t leave him under the bed like an unwashed sweater, or rush outside once they hear the alarm of the washing machine.</p><p>He digs out his phone instead, ignores his masochistic tendencies and sends a message to Donghyuck. He blames the fact that this semester is even more tiring, blames the four papers he has due next week, and blames the fact that he misses comfort more than before.</p><p>
  <em>hey. can we go out on a date. like a date date?? one where we hold hands and act like a couple instead of pretending i don’t want something more?</em>
</p><p>The reply is instantaneous, and Sungchan is hit with a bout of feelings released by the unlocking of the washing machine door, murky water swirling around his feet.</p><p>
  <em>sure. let’s talk about it then? pick you up at 2.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>ps: i think you looked beautiful today. you shine like the sun.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>i will allow the ugly sneakers! just this once!</em>
</p><p>It’s surprising—and nice. He feels lovely. It makes him draw in a sharp breath and try to think of all the reasons that he cannot go any further. It feels sobering, and the previous feelings of doubt and weariness bleed out from the tiny corners of his heart. He still feels tired, but it’s a tired feeling that comes along after a good day.</p><p>***</p><p>Later, on another day, when Donghyuck drives to pick Sungchan up for their date, he ponders about what they are. Maybe it’s the four shots of caffeine he’s had today, or the smile that Sungchan wore that day, but he can’t find it in his heart to leave this label empty. He grips the sides of the wheel, thinks of chalk and ink on books. Then he gets out of the car, and walks the flight of stairs to the laundry room, where Sungchan had yelled out when he buzzed him in.</p><p>Donghyuck has always liked shiny things. Gold chokers and silver rings and diamonds the size of receipt rolls. He likes the weight, the price tag, the capability that comes with them, shining rubies and dazzling emeralds. He keeps them in places high and far, and he rarely ever sees them again. Sungchan is neither of those, but somewhere between these lines he falls somewhere soft and gentle, bright and genuine, gold lined and cherished. Maybe it is just Donghyuck— maybe he’s starting to go against his mother now, turning to trusting places or his recklessness in turning towards the sun or just Sungchan’s overthinking nature and kind hands or the smell of burning in his throat or just the thump-thump-thump in his heart.</p><p>But somewhere in the back of his mind past peeled receipts and paper mache hearts, there is a dull throbbing for him to do something about it. What exactly he is not sure, but Donghyuck knows that this will be a slippery slope down the dusty nets of an aching heart.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>Sungchan turns around, entangled in sheets hanging across the pegs.</p><p>(And he finds himself awestruck.) </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'll like to say: thank you for reading this! thank you for anyone who has stumbled upon the snippet on twitter and expressed interest in it! you've all (emotionally) held my hand while writing this. and if you recognise yourself as any one of them: i give you a pat on the back and a wish for you to have a better chance at companionship one day!</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/euthtoria">twitter</a><br/><a href="https://curiouscat.qa/euthtoria">cc</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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